Staying Together No Matter What
by AnnaDaughterOfDemeter
Summary: A collection of Blackstairs one-shots. CONTAINS COHF SPOILERS
1. Bonds

_**Hey Guys! I ship Blackstairs SO MUCH! This is the first fanfiction I have written in a while, so sorry! - THIS CONTAINS COHF SPOILERS.**_

No matter how hard she tried, no matter how hard she pushed and forced her mind to forget, it wouldn't happen. The image of the stripped, pale, bruised, and dead bodies that Emma had called parents for twelve years wouldn't vanish from her mind.

And, oh boy, did she know it.

Afraid to sleep, afraid to have a spare moment of thought, afraid to even stop acting or fighting. The only thing Emma Carstairs hated more than seeing her dead parents, was that they had died at all.

The result was a small girl with long blonde hair and fierce blue eyes lying on the oak, hardwood floor. Staring up at the angled ceiling, crown molding bordering, she kept her mind active, reciting the vows that would be coming out of her own mouth the very next day._ Entreat me not to leave thee, Or return from following after thee—_

Her whirlwind of thoughts were interrupted as the black double doors to the training room creaked open with a small shudder, and in stepped a very tired Julian Blackthorn. "Em, why are you still lying on the bare floor?"

His voice was guarded, like he was talking to an out-of-control toddler. Moving his way across the room, he was soon standing above best friend. Dark hair cut softly across his forehead as he frowned and said, "Are you asleep?"

"No."

Sighing, Julian got swooped himself beside Emma on the floor, and turned on his side, facing her. "Hey. You've been on the floor for an hour. What's wrong?"

Emma hadn't told him. Not a word about her sleepless night, sweat filled sheets, or dark circles bordering her eyes had been mention to Jules. "Umn, nothing. Everything fine."

Julian smiled faintly. "Your a horrible liar, you know that right."  
"No. I was telling the truth."

Julian was silent for a few moments. Hoping the subject had dropped, Emma let out a relieved breath. Unfortunately, it wasn't. Moments later, Julian spoke again. "Does this have anything to do with our _parabatai_ ritual tomorrow?"

"No."

"Is this about me taking your seat at the table today?" Julian joked.

Emma faintly smiled. "Not anywhere close."

Julian didn't respond. He waited a few beats, and responded softly, "What about our dead parents?"

Her blood stopped cold. She wanted to tell him the truth so bad. That way she wouldn't have to bear the burden alone. But trying to put on a fake composure, she replied weakly. "Not exactly."

He shot upright, hair tousled and his light eyes filled with worry. "Em," he whispered. "You can tell me anything."

Emma willed back the sudden urge to cry. By the angel, she was just sick of it. Sick of living without any real family. Tired of staying up all night and wanting to collapses at every waking moment. Fed up with the constant aftermath of the war, and just scared if she was ever going to lose Jules, too. "I know. But you were so busy with Ty and Dru, and we only got to the institute a week ago−"

She had to break off when Julian spoke, the weapons glinting on the walls behind him. "Stop.

"Do you realize that, seeing how it is now midnight, in eight hours we will be standing dressed in black, steles in hand, and reciting a sacred oath to the council? Can you remember that ever since we were five, we have been having sleepovers and training together?"

Hoarse and in a low tone, Emma was meek. "Of course."

"And so how could you ever think that me unpacking or me kissing my sisters knee all better, was more important then my _parabatai_?"

"Technically, we aren't _parabatai_ yet."

Julian frowned, ignoring Emma's last remark. "Want to talk about it?"

Emma sat up. Her hands were shaking abnormally, and Jules grasped them and looked into her eyes. "Em."

He seemed to finally notice how pale she was, and how tired her eyes and mouth looked. He became alarmed. "When was the last time you slept?"  
"I havn't slept more than six hours a night ever since they died."

Julian said nothing. After a minute, he weakly pushed himself up and pulled Emma up, too.

"C'mon. Time to get to bed." 

Pushing open the doorway, Emma made straightway to her white blanketed bed and sat down. Kicking off her boots and falling onto her pillows, she didn't even bother to change out of her jeans. Emma hated to sleep in denim, and Jules knew that. "I'm coming back in five minutes, and I want to see you in pajamas and ready to sleep. Okay?"

She nodded in acknowledgement. Getting to work, Emma tossed her hair up in a bun, snatched on gym shorts and disappeared in the bathroom. She was rubbing her hands on the beige towel when Julian peeked into her black-walled room. "Can I come in?"

"Go ahead."

Walking out and about to collapse from exhaustion, Emma made it to the bed and tucked herself in. She looked at Julian with thought.

"What?"

"It's just...I wonder if we will act any different after becoming _parabatai_."

"I doubt. We can't become any closer than we are."

Emma smiled, comforted at the thought. "You are right."

Brushing his hands through his hair, Julian snatched up the covers and nudged Emma. "Scoot over."

Emma didn't blink. They had down this dozens of times. It had started when the first week without Julian's mother, and he would have nightmares. Emma would clutch him as he woke up in cold sweat and she wouldn't fall back asleep until he did.

Because even before they had been _parabatais_, they had a bond. And as two twelve-year olds lay asleep in the corner room of the institute, Emma got her needed peaceful night of sleep, and Julian was happy to help.


	2. Scuffles

_**Hey shadowhunters! Sorry that it's been a long time since i updated :) Anyway, this Blackstairs fanfiction chapter was inspired by Cassandra Clare, because she said that Emma and Julian owned a cat, so this is the story!**_

It was his fault, really.

Julian should've known that if he tried to sneak up on Emma, he'd end up on the floor; a sore back, and a smirking _parabatai. _However, on a beautiful summer day, fifteen year old Julian Blackthorn crept behind Emma Carstairs and slid his nimble hands over her dark blue eyes.

Seven seconds later, he was on the floor.

He lay there on the wooden ground. Dark hair curling 'round his head and small shocks of pain were sent through his body; the same thing he felt nearly every time he tried to be stealthy around Em. He wasn't exactly spy worthy material. And Emma knew that.

Looking down on him, she gave a look of anger. The scowl on her deep set face softened when she saw who the opponent was. "You really shouldn't try."  
He frowned, lines creasing in between his eyebrows.  
Feeling small regret, Emma laughed and put her hand down to help. Julian had other intentions. Clamping onto her hand, Julian took a quick tug. Emma spiraled onto the floor, landing with arms and legs sprawled across the floor.

Her blonde hair was wrapped in a braid, and small tufts were poking out. Her black bottoms and white shirt were in contrast to the bright blue socks she was wearing. Julian noticed that she looked absolutely beautiful.  
"Julian? Hello?" Emma snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"Hmm? Oh, sorry, I got sidetracked. Day dreaming."

Emma rolled her eyes. She'd heard _that one_ before.

Pulling himself and her up, Julian brushed off his jacket, which was unsurprisingly black, and pulled out a navy blue scarf he had snatched from Livvy and handed it to Emma. "Put this over your eyes."

Emma flicked a glance towards the cloth item and scoffed. "No way."

"Yes."

"I don't want to."

Julian feigned agreeance. "Okay, but you don't get your present then."

Contrary to what Emma thought, she was a little bit greedy. She wanted to have that gift. But it was logical. It was June 28th, her birthday.  
She took a long moment to contemplate. "I guess I'll do it."

Playful as always, the green eyed boy gently brushed back her hair and stood behind Emma. He tied the scarf in a knot. Waving his hand in front of her eyes, he asked, "Em? Can you see anything?"

She huffed in defeat. "No."

"Good."

Grabbing Emma's hand, which was warm to the touch, Julian guided her out of the library and through a wide, bright hallway. Portraits of famous shadowhunters and The Mortal War decorated the walls. _Including my deceased parents._  
Julian shoved the thought out of his head, stopping in front of one of the windows that showed the ocean. He let go of Emma's hand. "Stay right there and hold out your hands."

She extended out her hands, palms up. On her right arm a jagged scar ran up. On her left, multiple scratches and bruises from the two _parabatai's_ sparring yesterday. Julian smiled faintly at the thought. Emma would never deny it, she was tougher then she looked.

"Mrr."

Julian cringed. She was supposed to _see_ the cat, not hear it.  
Arms still extended and eyes still covered, Emma perked up. "Jules? Was that a cat?"

"Umm, maybe?"

Emma ripped off the blindfold with ferocity and gaped at the beige colored cat that padded next to Julian. "Did you get me a cat for my birthday?"

Julian just sighed and scooped the feline up. He held it to Emma. "Surprise."

Squealing like a infant, and not like the fifteen year old she was, Emma snatched the cat up and placed it in her arms. It couldn't have been more than a few months old. It wasn't more than a few months old.

"What are you gonna name it?"

Emma snapped into focus. "What?"

"You know, Julian is a pretty good name for a cat," he joked.

Emma snapped back, playfully. "Nah, I want to name it something that practically _screams_ something heroic."

Julian pouted.

In ignorance, Emma just faced the ocean. She could stand the water from far away, even though getting up close would terrify her. "Scuffles."

Jules snorted. "Scuffles? You think _that_ sounds heroic?"

Emma shrugged, dropping the cat on the ground and following suit as she slid down, resting her back against the wall. "Sure. It's a kitten. It needs something cute."

Rolling his eyes, her _parabatai_ sat down and Scuffles walked over to him. he scooped him up. "He's soft."

Emma laughed, but then stopped. "Ew. Do I have to clean his litterbox?"

Julian shook his head. "No. We're going to train him to be an outdoor cat. All we have to do is wash him and leave food out for him."

"And who is this 'we' you speak of?"

"You and I."

Emma smiled. "Of course. We stay together no matter what, even if it is washing a small cat."

Julian smiled. "Of course."  
_Staying together no matter what._


	3. Date

Hey guys! This takes play when they are 15/16 & it's based on the fact that Cassandra Clare said that Emma dates a lot of guys.

-  
_**January 2011**_, _**Los Angeles Institute**_  
Looking back, none of this would have happened if she had learned to play the piano.

As Julian slid onto the black piano bench and poised his sculpted hands above the keys, Emma knew she had lost. Before he even touched a fingertip to the cold gloss or flick a single chord, Julian had the grace and delicacy needed to play the piano. He had the flow buried down deep in his core. Probably an advantage of always painting.

Emma took in a sharp breath as he began to play.

Of course, both of them had taken lessons. Jace had practically forced it upon them when he learned that neither of them had ever taken apart in performing arts.

But they had never avidly played. And as Jules' notes melodiously floated throughout the parlor, Emma spoke in a low tone. "You liar."

Julian stopped in the middle of a measure, turning away from the piano and resting his back against the grand instrument. "Technically, I didn't. You just didn't know that I still played the piano and went over the music time to time."

Em opened her mouth, and then closed it when the realization hit her. She didn't even want to compete; that would just be an embarrassment to both of them. Sighing, a feeling of defeat came over her, as smooth as the glass windows but as thick as the cardigan Julian was wearing. She pushed the sick feeling out of her gut. "Fine. I lost. What's the consequence?"

Thirty minutes later, a storming Emma pushed open the door. Throwing her bag on her bed and kicking off her boots, she screeched, "Julian, you have ten seconds to get in here before I kick your butt!"

A messy and tangled Blackthorn forced his way through the doorway. "What the heck, Em? I was about to start a can−"

He broke off, noticing the fury and attitude displayed across Emma's face. "By the angel. What happened?"

Yanking her hair out of it's hold, she made a strangled sigh before piercing Julian with her startling blue gaze. "What happened? What happened is that because of your stupid bet, I was stuck at the counter for fifteen minutes and now have a date tomorrow!"

It was silent a few moments after that. Julian's head was racing. Of course, Emma had been on dates before. It had been weeks since she had a free Friday night. But something different stirred up inside of him. It was a mix of anger and sadness, with a pinch of envy. Forcing himself to think about something else, basically anything else, he cleared his throat. "Great. But did you get the milkshake?"

Emma huffed. "Unbelievable."

"What?"

"I have to go on a date with a random guy, who may be a vampire or werewolf thing, all because you were secretly hiding your piano skills from me."

Julian groaned. "By the angel, Emma! I wasn't hiding them from you. And why didn't you say no?"

"Because at the time, I thought it was a good idea. But now, it's not, because I barely even know him."

Julian caught his breath. Better not to argue, because she'll be over it before the hour closes. "Whatever. I'm going to take a shower. Try not to land another date while I'm gone, because I won't be there to console you."

Emma flicked her hair back. "Ha,ha, Jules."

"How was it?"

36 hours after storming home, Julian was lying on Emma's bed. Staring up at the white ceiling, waiting for his _parabatai_ to respond, he counted exactly twelve marks from Emma's combat battles that had gone, well, out of control.

"Fine."

His clothes rustled as Julian turned on this side, facing Emma, who was snatching up a blue plastic hairbrush. "Fine?"

"It was only a dinner and movie."

"That's it?" Julian inquired.

Emma snorted. "By the angel, Jules. We didn't make out or have sex, if that's what' your wondering about."

Rolling his eyes and flopping on his backside, Julian wondered, "Why haven't you complained about it yet?"

Emma stopped. She set down her brush carefully and started at herself in the mirror, ignoring Julian's gaze. "Because it wasn't that bad."

Julian treaded carefully on the subject. "So are you going out with him again?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Emma closed her eyes and counted carefully to ten, mentally. Julian stared in awe at her perfectly controlled face and puzzled how he could have ever learned to read her. And right now, her face practically screamed, _"DROP THE CONVERSATION."_

And Julian didn't want to know. He wanted to know exactly what had happened. Wanted to know every words, touch, brush and event that occurred between them. He wanted to always know where Emma was, and if she was safe and if she needed help. He was her _parabatai_, after all.

But he wanted her to trust him. Julian wanted Emma to be able to look him in the eye and tell him anything without caution. He certainly didn't like the fact that Emma wouldn't tell him, but he had to value her.

Julian let the topic go. He began to speak an octave lower. "Okay." He pushed himself off the bed and tapped her doorframe as his body left the room. "See you, Em."

He tucked out of her view and rested for a minute, pondering. Something was off about Emma, and he couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but it was something important.

Emma shrugged off her jacket and flicked off the lights. Burrowing inside the comforters and flipping her satin pillow to the cold side, she was safe to think about herself and her feelings.

And her certain feelings towards a certain boy.

Who had a certain grace and poise and elegance that seemed to shadow him wherever he went.

Who had a certain best friend who loved him a little more than a best friend.

And she had a certain, boy problem.


End file.
